Of Love Alone
by FoxyElvenPirate
Summary: Total AU. Not canon by any means. Harry is in his fifth year. What would happen if Harry had a new place to spend the summer and if there was a relative he had never known?
1. Chapter 1 Under New Management

Yet another HP story that I'm starting because the idea will not go away. This one will be a bit different from my other two, but will still largely feature Harry and Sev (as if I could leave them out, especially Sev grin ). However there will be an OC who will be intergal as well and who the first chapter is mostly about. Not every chapter will be so oc oriented of course, but this is for background purposes. I hope everyone enjoys the new foray into a total AU.

My special thanks to TrustSnape for being an idea/title generator/brainstormer and to all my readers and reviewers out there. Thanks so very much for all your kind, encouraging words. They keep me keeping on. :)

oooooooooo

A house is made of brick and stone, a home is made of love alone.

Under New Management

Fiona O'Reilly read over the letter again and then stared out the window of the cab into the driving rain. "Well, Nana, you were right it seems," the young thirty-one year old commented softly.

"What was that, miss?" the cabbie inquired.

"Oh. . .nothing," Fiona replied, jerked out of her thoughts by the other voice. "How much longer?"

"'Bout half an hour. Might be a bit more in this rain," the man answered. "You picked a rough day to be traveling these back roads. Ain't been anyone other than locals down this way in years as I can recall."

"I would imagine not," the young woman answered, more to herself than to the driver.

The cabbie shook his head. Young folks these days had some strange ideas. Especially foreigners like this one. What else could explain a young woman, alone, insisting that she had to get to some remote little village when she could have spent the night in a comfortable motel in the city. Heather Glen was a small, simple place and nothing of any note there for tourists. The man had thought about asking if his passenger had family there but refrained.

Returning her gaze to the passing sodden landscape, Fiona tried to decide if any of it was the slightest bit familiar to her. She had been fourteen when she left to start her new life in the new world as Nana had said. The dark haired young woman swallowed against a lump in her throat. She could still picture the day as if it were yesterday.

_"I'll miss you so, Nana," the young teen whispered as she held onto the old woman. _

_"And I will miss you being this close, child," Samantha McCool answered. "But we will still be with each other in our hearts and spirits, even an ocean apart." _

_Fiona sighed. "It's not the same as being here with you though." _

_"No, but considering how stubborn your father is, we will have to make do," the girl's grandmother had stated. "And you will be back, my little Fi. This much I know. You will come home one day. Not in my time, but this house will be here when you have need and it will know the laughter of young ones again." _

_"What are you babbling about now?" a male voice cut in. _

_Samantha McCool regarded her son-in-law with bright blue eyes whose sharpness was not dimmed with age. "Fiona and I were merely talking, John. About things you would never understand." Just as you never understood Amanda, the old woman added to herself. And just as you never will understand my granddaughter. _

_Fiona's father had snorted and shaken his head. "You have five minutes, girl," he said to Fiona. "I don't plan to be late for our flight." _

_Girl and woman had exchanged a look, Fiona trying to fight back tears at leaving. Samantha placed a gentle hand under the young chin and looked deep into the hazel eyes. "Never forget what I said, my lass. This is home and your roots will call you back. When you least expect it you will have a surprise to change your life."_

_"I'll remember, Nana," Fiona had vowed even though she didn't understand. Then again a good deal of the odd things her nana said seemed to happen._

_"Good." The woman smiled. "Now go to your new life, my dear one. And never lose your fire. Despite what your father thinks or the name you got from him, you're a McCool and more special than you know." _

And now here she was. Back after all these years. Just as nana had said. How she could have possibly known was beyond Fiona's comprehension, but then again her grandmother had always seemed to have some uncanny abilities. When she was a child she had almost believed they were magic. Now she knew better. There was no almost involved. Magic was real.

oooooooooo

"You're certain sure, miss?" the inn keeper asked for the fifth time. "The old McCool place hasn't been used in years."

"It is going to be now," Fiona answered firmly. "I intend to live there." She had had the cab drop her off here at the inn in Heather Glen rather than carry her all the way to the manor. It was dark and the rain showed no signs of letting up and who knew what she would find at the house considering her nana had passed away some four years ago. It would be better to wait till morning.

"And just what might you be planning to do with it?" the man questioned. "Turn it into one of them fancy lodges for tourists? We don't need any foreigners round here. And how did you end up with it at all? I hadn't heard it was for sale." The grey eyes bored into Fiona's hazel ones.

"It wasn't. I didn't buy it. I merely came back to claim what was mine." Fiona held out her hand. "Fiona O'Reilly, sir. My grandmother was Samantha McCool."

"Merciful heavens!" came a cry from the back room and a woman came out, her apron dirty and hair no longer pinned as neatly as it had likely been when the day started. "Joseph, it's the little lost one!"

Fiona blinked and offered the woman a smile before finding herself in a hug. "Welcome home, deary. You mustn't mind Joe here. He's gotten ornery in his old age." She glanced over at the man. "I'm Peggy Cleary. Do you remember me, lass?"

Fiona studied the woman before her. Cleary. . .Cleary. . .she turned the name over in her mind. Then it hit her. "Barbara Cleary?" she questioned, remembering one of her old playmates from her summers here.

The blond woman smiled and nodded. "That's right. I'm Barbara's mum. Haven't seen you since you were a wee thing and use to visit your Gran. But Samantha never forgot you, lass. She spoke of you often, right up till she slipped away from us."

Forcing back the lump in her throat at the though of her Nana, Fiona nodded. "Well, I'm back to stay now. I had planned to go on to the manor tonight, but with the rain and everything, I thought it might be best to stop off here at the inn instead."

"Wise idea," Joseph spoke up again. "And you should have just told us right out who ye were, lass. I'd have never turned away Samantha's granddaughter."

Fiona gave the older man a look thinking he shouldn't be turning anyone away, but she didn't voice her opinion. Instead she questioned, "How bad is the house? I don't suppose it's been kept up."

Joe snorted. "You suppose wrong. Carlton has tended it faithfully the last few years. Loves puttering around in the gardens especially. And I know for a fact the main floor is about like it always was. Now them upper floors, I daresay are full of dust and whatnot. Carlton don't manage stairs as well as he once did. But he's been a right good caretaker since your grandmother passed on. The manor will be livable with no problem. Just need to make the calls to get all the utilities sorted and you should be set. Mighty nice set up if you ask me. Samantha made all the arrangements to have it ready if you ever decided to set foot here again."

"Now, Joe, you stop being so hard on the lass," Peggy scolded. "T'ain't her fault her da drug her off to America. And likely refused to let her come back," the last was added quieter than the rest, but Fiona heard it.

The look Joe gave the two women said that he didn't think much of the excuse since Fiona was clearly an adult now and could have returned had she wanted, but the man said nothing other than. "Room at the top of the stairs and three down on the left oughta suit you."

"Come along, dear," Peggy put an arm around Fiona and led her toward the stairs.

Fiona allowed herself to be guided to a nice room. It was rather plain by some standards, but the young woman found the quaintness refreshing and homey. And it had all the necessary items; bed, chest of drawers, wardrobe, and an adjoining bath. "Thank you, Mrs. Cleary. It's lovely."

"Oh call me Peggy, dear," the woman bustled around turning down the bedcovers. "I'm sure we'll be seeing a good bit of each other now that you are back among us. Now then," she patted the bed, "all ready for you. And I've no doubt you need a good night's sleep after all your travels."

Smiling at the friendly woman, Fiona was reminded of a feeling of closeness and caring that she hadn't experienced in years. "Thank you. And yes, a rest in a soft bed sounds heavenly."

Peggy smiled back. "If you need anything, just let me know. And in the morning I'll see to rounding up Carlton and we can start getting you all settled back at the manor."

"Oh you don't have to do that," Fiona protested. "I can see to things on my own."

"Nonsense, dear. You're home now and we look after our own," Peggy stated firmly as she went to the door and stepped into the hall. "Good night and sleep well."

"Good night," Fiona replied with another smile. Despite Joe's gruffness and seeming disapproval of her, Peggy was the welcoming force that Fiona recalled from her childhood here. Heather Glen had always been a close knit little village, with everyone caring for and looking out for their neighbors. With a soft sigh, she opened her suitcase and took out her night clothes. Carrying them to the bathroom, Fiona smiled to herself. Regardless of how long it had taken or what was going to happen next due to the letter, it was nice to be back.

oooooooooo

The dazzling morning sun beamed down on things after the night of heavy rain. Things were a bit sodden as yet, but to the young woman striding along the road, her life seemed to be as clean and fresh as the newly washed earth and air. A new start, Fiona thought as she continued the quarter mile trek that would lead her to her home.

She had persuaded Peggy and Carlton King, the caretaker whom Peggy had somehow already alerted and who had been waiting at the inn for her when she appeared downstairs, to allow her to go alone to the manor first. Now armed with the house key and one small travel bag slung over her shoulder, Fiona rounded the bend and saw for the first time in many a year the stone pillars that marked the gateway to her Nana's house. The trees were thicker than she had remembered them but the stone drive was the same. Her pace unconsciously quickened as she made her way along the cool, tree-lined entranceway, memories of a young girl running up this same drive flooding back.

And there it was. McCool Manor. The stately building looked so very much the same as in Fiona's memories that she half expected to see Charlie, the groundskeeper, or Robert, the stable hand who had been her friend. But those people were long gone. Charlie was likely died by now as he had been well past fifty and what Fiona considered ancient when she had last been here. And Robert, well, he was younger, but could have moved away. Peggy had told her at breakfast her own daughter Barbara had left Heather Glen when she married and Fiona had wondered then how many of the people she had known were left.

For the moment though all thought of the villagers was pushed aside as she gazed at the house. The house where she had spent so many summers. The place she had been so happy. The one place she had always felt safe and at home and as if she belonged. Tears filled her eyes. How could she have stayed away so long? WHY did she? Chiding herself that she could not turn back the past, Fiona vowed that she was here to stay now.

Continuing up the front walkway to the solid wooden doors, she took out the key and unlocked them, pushing them open. Stepping inside, the hazel eyes looked around at the familiar things. Joe had been right, the house had been kept up well by Carlton. There was only a vague hint of mustiness in the air and no sheet draped furniture, at least not in the immediate area. Fiona could have sworn that things were as they had always been and she had merely arrived back from visiting some of her friends in the village. With a slightly tearful smile, the young woman called out in the manner of the old days, "Nana! I'm home!" And somehow, Fiona knew that Samantha McCool heard her.

ooooooooo

It had taken the vast part of the day and the uncomplaining help of Peggy Cleary, but together the two women had set to rights two of the four second floor bedrooms and baths, as well as tidied up the main floor. Her luggage had arrived and the most needed things unpacked. Arrangements had been made for grocery delivery, the lights, water, gas, and phone been seen to, and all was progressing better than Fiona could have hoped.

Peggy had cheerfully filled Fiona in on all the happenings of the village until the younger woman's mind was awhirl with it all. But there were plenty of names she had recognized even though it had been years since she had heard them spoken or thought of them. The motherly blond woman had told Fiona that word had already spread of Fiona's homecoming. Not that it took much to figure out how it had spread, Fiona had thought with a grin. But she was grateful that Peggy had informed everyone that Fiona wasn't receiving guests as yet.

When they had stopped work on cleaning for lunch, Carlton had joined them in the kitchen and insisted that 'Miss Fiona' come outside and see the grounds. So a good hour of the afternoon had been spent walking the flowery paths and enjoying the gardens of her childhood. The trees she had climbed as a child were now huge, and mentally Fiona was already placing a swing in one of them since it would be more dignified than shinning up the trunk now.

Fiona was delighted to find the old carriage house and stables were still intact and had announced her intentions of cleaning them and getting a couple of horses. After all, five acres without any animals was not what she wanted!

Now though Peggy and Carlton had returned to their own homes and Fiona was relaxing in a chair in the sitting room, lost in her memories and plans for the future. What did the future hold? She had many ideas of what she wished to do concerning her home, but what about the letter she had received? What about this boy that she had never heard of before? How was he to change her life? The letter had stated that all her questions would be answered once she was settled. But how would the man, the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, know when she had arrived?

As if in answer to her wonderings, a knock sounded on the front door. Puzzled as to who it could be, Fiona rose and went to find an old man that she had never laid eyes on.

"Good evening, Miss O'Reilly," the silver haired man smiled and Fiona was captivated by the twinkle in the blue eyes. "I believe you have some questions that need answering?"

Fiona was stunned and blinked at the greeting. "Um. . .well, yes. That is. . .good evening to you as well, sir. I presume that you are Mister, um, that is to say Professor Dumbledore. Or do you prefer Headmaster?"

The old wizard chuckled. "Albus is fine, child," he replied.

"Oh. . .yes, sir. . .Albus." Fiona wondered why she was suddenly reduced to a stammering idiot. _Not much of a first impression, Fi, _she thought to herself. "Won't you come in and have a seat?"

"Thank you." Entering the house and following Fiona to the sitting room, Dumbledore took a seat in the comfortable looking armchair and observed the young woman before him. She was average height and weight and her hair was a dark brown, but he could detect auburn highlights and smiled. That would be Samantha's contribution. Along with the hazel eyes flecked with gold and green.

Fiona flushed slightly under the intense scrutiny of the sharp gaze. She felt as if she were being examined and wondered briefly if she would measure up. Though why precisely she wanted to have this stranger's approval she wasn't sure.

"Your grandmother would be glad to see you back here," Dumbledore commented.

"My gr. . .You knew Nana??" Fiona was puzzled by the comment. She had never heard this man mentioned in her life, had not even known of his existence until she received the letter.

The silver head nodded. "Indeed I did. She was a kind and gracious woman, though she had a fiery temper when provoked." He smiled as if at some memory before looking directly at Fiona. "Samantha McCool was also a very powerful witch. I count myself privileged to have been called her friend."

"Sir, not to be rude, but. . .well, Nana never spoke of you," Fiona stated.

"Did she not? Yes, well, I suppose that is just as well," Albus mused.

Feeling more confused by the moment, Fiona questioned, "And why is that? Surely if you were her friend she would have let others know."

The blue eyes regarded the young woman. "I have no doubt your grandmother would have told you all if she could have, child. I know that she wanted to. But she had given her word."

"Given her word about what? Told me what? I'm sorry, but you are making no sense, mister. . .Albus."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Perhaps I should start at the beginning. But I find a conversation is improved with a spot of tea." Here the old wizard withdrew his wand and casually flicked it. A well decked out tea tray with two cups, a pot of tea, and a plate of hot scones, half cheese and half simply buttered, appeared.

Fiona blinked. "That. . .that's much quicker than I could do it for sure," she commented.

Laughing, Albus handed a cup to the young woman and motioned toward the plate.

Helping herself to a cheese scone, Fiona thanked him and then burst out laughing. "This is just totally backwards. You are MY guest and yet here you are providing the refreshments!"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You may fix the food in your own way for my next visit if you wish," he smiled.

Wondering if the visits would be a normal occurrence now, Fiona merely nodded and took a sip of tea.

"Now, my dear, as you have found out your grandmother was more than she appeared. And magic is very real."

Fiona nodded. "Yes, sir. Though I'm still not entirely sure what that has to do with the letter you sent me about the boy and the school and the war you mentioned."

Holding up his hand, the man smiled. "Patience, child. I will attempt to clear some things up for you. First of all the school, of which I happen to be the current headmaster, is called Hogwarts. It is Britain's only school for witchcraft and wizardry. And where you would have gone had not things been different."

"Excuse me?" Fiona had been listening quietly to the first part of what she was sure was to be a lengthy explanation. The comment about the school and herself, however, threw her. "I'm not a witch."

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head sadly. "Alas, no, not now. But you were destined to be one." Seeing the wide eyed look of shock on the young woman's face, he continued. "Every wizarding child's name is recorded in a book at Hogwart's as soon as the child is born. There are some wizarding families where, for some reason, the wizarding gene skips a generation in the immediate family. Such is the case in yours. Your grandmother was a witch. Your mother, Amanda was the skipped one. A lovely girl, but without an ounce of magical talent. And then there was. . ."

"Me," Fiona breathed, having trouble taking all this in.

"Yes, child, you." Dumbledore smiled sadly. "I can recall when your mother was carrying you. I happened to be here when she came for a visit to Samantha's. Your grandmother and I both felt the aura of magic surrounding you in the womb. We knew that you were going to be quite a little witch."

"Then what happened?" Fiona asked perplexed.

Dumbledore studied Fiona a moment before revealing the answer. "Your father happened, my dear."

"My. . .my father?"

"He knew what Samantha was, knew the possibility of his child being born with magical talents. He swore that he would not have it. He abhorred magic, yet he had to relay on it in order to accomplish his evil plan. He found a dark wizard and procured a potion from him. A potion that when mixed with a drink would be tasteless and never detected by most. A potion that would render any magic null and void."

Fiona gasped. "He made me drink it?" She had no memory of anything like that, but then again, there was no way she could have known apparently.

"No, child," Dumbledore's voice was sad and angry at the same time. "He did much worse. He gave it to your mother." At the stricken look, the wizard reassured Fiona, "She never knew what she was drinking, what she was doing not only to you, but to herself. But the potion effectively took away not only your magic abilities but killed the spark of magic in your mother's blood, ensuring that any future children she had would be. . .'normal', by your father's standards. Of course it backfired and caused problems that resulted in Amanda never having any more children."

"Damn him," Fiona said softly, but vehemently, tears glistening in her eyes. Then her emotions took over and she rose from the couch, her voice growing stronger. "DAMN HIM!!! How could he??? No wonder Nana always hated him!!! She knew!!! YOU knew!!!" Here Fiona whirled on Dumbledore, tears spilling down her cheeks. "How did you know??"

The wizard sat sadly watching this young woman discover things that had been hidden all her life. Hard things. To find out that she could have had a totally different life and that option was denied her.

Sighing, Albus related, "Amanda went into premature labor because of the potion. Samantha went to your parents' home to be there for her daughter when she returned from the hospital. She found the mug your father had used. He had not washed it and the residue was still in the bottom. Samantha knew it was a form of potion and called me. Unfortunately, I was able to identify it but not counteract it. I have not much expertise in the potion making art and most especially not in the more ancient of the darkest potions."

"Samantha was heartbroken to know what had been done, but after talking with me about it, it was decided that it would be best not to reveal the matter and simply allow you to live your life. That is why she never told you and likely way she never spoke of me. Bringing the wizarding world to your attention would have only caused problems for you with your father."

Fiona was in shock, confused and hurt more than she ever could remember being. Her father, her very own father, had deliberately done something to change her life irrevocably. Not only that, he had caused her mother, whether he meant to or not, to never have the children she had wanted, magical or otherwise. And it had been the fourth miscarriage that had also claimed her mother's life. He had done that. John O'Reilly. Her father.

Dumbledore set aside his tea cup and crossed the room to where Fiona stood beside the fireplace, gazing down at the brass andirons. Placing a hand on her shoulder, the wizard spoke. "I am sorry to have put all this on you at once, my dear. Perhaps it would be best if I go now and let you have some time alone. We can talk more about the other things another day."

"No." Fiona came out of her trance-like state and looked up at the kindly old man. "No, I need to find out about the rest. About Harry and why you wrote to me. There has to be something good in all this."

Nodding, Dumbledore led Fiona back over to the couch, this time taking a seat beside her. He could see that the young woman was fighting for control of her emotions. "Your mother had an uncle, Samantha's brother, who was a wizard. That uncle, Henry Potter, in turn had a son who was a wizard. He was the only son and was born when his parents were older and thus very much doted upon. His name was James Potter. He was Harry's father. So you see, Harry is your distant cousin."

Fiona took a moment to follow Albus links to her family tree but then she nodded. "And Harry is the reason you tracked me down."

"Yes." Albus responded and then proceeded to give the young woman an abridged version of Harry's life and the war that the wizarding world was engaged in. "I had not given much thought to distant relatives, I'm sorry to say, until recently. In fact, it took me quite a bit of doing to find out just what had become of any remaining members of Henry's family."

"And I'm it," Fiona concluded. "I'm the results of that search."

"Indeed, yes, a search that took me across the ocean to America," the old wizard smiled.

"Not to be rude, but just what makes you think that this teenager will just openly accept someone that he's never heard about, let alone laid eyes on?" the young woman questioned.

"You know nothing of Harry either, my dear. Yet you answered the letter." Dumbledore chuckled. "What made you leave your home and come here?"

Hazel eyes regarded the man a moment before Fiona answered bluntly, "My father's luxurious mansion was never home. It was cold and distant, just like he was. I spent more time away at boarding school than there. And my apartment, well it was comfortable, but I had no real ties to the place. After my father died last year, I could have cared less what became of his things. It was no hardship to sell everything and come here. This," she waved an arm around the room, "THIS house, my Nana's house, is home, sir. That's why I came back. Just. . ." Fiona stopped.

Dumbledore cocked his head. "Just?"

"Just like Nana said I would," Fiona said softly. She looked from the picture of her beloved grandmother on the mantle to the silver haired man with twinkling eyes sitting on the other end of the couch. "She knew. Somehow. . .she knew."

"I would not doubt it, child," Albus smiled.

Fiona looked at the old man and smiled back. Then she questioned further. "Why is it that you think I would make a good guardian for a fifteen year old?"

"As I told you, Sirius Black, Harry's godfather who Harry had planned to spend most of the summer holidays with, is now dead due to an attack by the enemy. Of course it could have been avoided had Sirius obeyed orders and stayed where he was supposed to, but he never was the most obedient," Dumbledore explained, shaking his head as he thought about the events of several months ago. "And as Harry's aunt and uncle have made it plain that he is no longer welcome in their home, it would be risky in more ways than one to send him back there. Not only would they mistreat him even more, but he would not be protected."

"He was protected there before? I thought you said they were neglectful and even abusive to him?" Fiona wondered how on earth that was protective.

Dumbledore nodded. "He was protected by magic. Wards were in place around the house which kept out those who would harm him. But now with the unwillingness to house the boy and the hatred, something that our enemy feeds on, the wards would be weakened at best and even the blood bond would be all but negated."

Fiona listened thoughtfully, trying to make sense of it. "Would there be a blood tie with me, even though I'm only a distant cousin? Would Harry be safe here?"

"Indeed there would," the wizard smiled. "And yes, with the family tie and the wards that your grandmother had on this place, you and Harry will both be safe here. Probably more so as Voldermort knows nothing whatsoever about you."

"Wards? You mean Nana had spells on this house?"

Albus chuckled. "That she did, child. Quite a few. And they are still here. In fact," the wizard rose from the couch, "several magical aspects are still very much here." He walked over to the fireplace and took down a small jar.

"This is floo powder," he informed her. "Now that you will be living here, you may submit a request to the Ministry of Magic to restore this house to the floo network, which I will of course support and help speed through the necessary channels." He winked at Fiona.

"Floo powder? The floo network? What. . .?" Fiona shook her head. "I can remember as a child climbing up and taking that container down. I threw some of the powder in the fire and it blazed up with green flames. Nana told me it wasn't to play with, no matter how pretty I thought the flames were, and after that I didn't see the jar on any more visits. She hid it somewhere."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I doubt that you would have discovered how to really use it, but I can understand Samantha not wanting to risk it. Or waste the floo powder by having you randomly throw it on the fire. The floo network is made up of different fireplaces in the wizarding world, all connected, and thus allowing travel from one destination to another. One simply has to toss in a handful of floo powder, step into the flames, and state where they wish to go in a clear voice. Then they are automatically sent there."

Fiona blinked. "Step into the flames?"

Albus nodded. "The floo powder acts a shield against the regular flames. You will not be harmed."

"I have to say, things seem to be easier and quicker in the wizarding world," Fiona commented with a bemused smile. "Toss a bit of powder in the fire and zap yourself to where you want to go. No walking, bus, car, or plane for you guys."

Dumbledore laughed merrily at the young woman's observations. "True, my dear, true. We do have many shortcuts to things. But once you are listed on the floo network, you will be able to 'zap' to places as well. Which will make visiting people and places much easier. And it will allow Harry to come and visit you."

"Provided he wants to. Have you even told him about me?" Fiona questioned.

"No, I planned to do that in a day or so and then we will both return to visit with you," the Headmaster responded.

Fiona nodded. "I suppose the sooner the better, so if things don't work out, you will have time before the summer to make other arrangements."

"Oh, I have every confidence that this will work out," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Now, I brought along a paper for you to sign about the floo network. . ."

The next several minutes were spent in getting things organized a bit more and then Dumbledore took his leave, stating that he would be back in three days time with Harry.

Once the old man was gone, Fiona collapsed on the couch. "Well this was sure a heck of a homecoming," the young woman stated to herself.


	2. Chapter 2 First Impressions

A/N - Yes it's been forever since I did anything with this story...or any of my long stories really. I'm not promising anything this time, but I will say I have been in a writing mood of late, so maybe... At any rate, I hope you enjoy this chapter. And thanks to TrustSnape for helping out with errors.

First Impressions

He couldn't believe it! Here he was at a place he most certainly didn't want to be when he could have been back in the Gryffindor common room with his friends. Even studying would have been better than this!!

"Now, it is not that bad, my boy," Dumbledore smiled, patting Harry's arm. "Give her a chance, Harry."

He didn't want to give her a chance! The teen thought stubbornly. How dare the Headmaster do something like this. As if living all his life with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wasn't bad enough, now he was about to be dumped on some strange cousin he never even knew existed. And who probably was horrid. After all, she wasn't even a witch from what Dumbledore had said. Just another awful Muggle relative that he was expected to stay with and make the best of things. When all Harry wanted was a place where he was wanted. And he had had one! For a fleeting moment, someone had wanted him. The teen clenched his hands into fists at the thought of Sirius and stared up at the mansion where Dumbledore had brought him.

The house was huge, but not imposing, seeming somehow to be welcoming despite its size. Harry took in the stone walls and the tower with its pinnacled turret. For the briefest of moments the boy wondered what was in the tower and how much fun it might be to explore it, but he frowned again and pushed the thought away. So it was a nice house. Big deal. It wasn't where he wanted to be. Reluctantly Harry followed Dumbledore to the arched double wooden front doors and waited as the older wizard knocked.

Fiona had been expecting her guests and answered the door to find the old man she now knew as Albus and a sullen looking dark haired boy. "Hello, gentlemen," she smiled. "Do come in."

Dumbledore smiled as he entered. "Thank you, my dear."

"And you must be Harry," Fiona commented as she led them to the drawing room.

"Yeah," Harry replied, thinking well who else would I be?

As they entered the spacious room, Harry looked around. Like the other rooms he had been lead through, this one had gleaming hardwood floors. There was a large fireplace with a mantle where assorted pictures and decorative items were housed. To each side of the fireplace was a built in bookcase, the shelves showing both books and more figurines.

Taking a seat in a soft armchair, Harry continued his silent perusal of his surroundings. There was a large bay window, complete with a window seat at the rear of the room and double French doors led outside. To the gardens he guessed. More double French doors were open to the side of the room revealing what looked to be another, smaller, sitting area. And on a third wall was yet another door, this one closed so that Harry couldn't discover what was behind it.

Fiona hovered near a coffee table. "I have tea and cookies ready if you would like some," she commented and then smiled at Dumbledore. "I decided to be a proper hostess this time and make my own tea."

Dumbledore chuckled as he took a seat. "Tea sounds lovely, my dear."

"Harry? What about you?" Fiona looked over at the still quiet boy. "Would you like a cookie? And I have milk if you would rather have that."

_Milk with his cookies? Did she think he was five instead of fifteen?!_ Harry wondered. "Tea's fine. What kind of cookies are they?"

"Cinnamon," Fiona smiled. "I used to love them when I was a kid."

"I like peanut butter better," Harry stated.

"Oh," Fiona's smile slipped a bit. "Well, I'll remember that and make them next time."

Harry nodded and took a cup of tea and one cookie when offered.

Dumbledore held back a sigh and shook his head, but then accepted his own tea and cookies with a gracious smile and nod of thanks. He had known this would be a stilted meeting at best. But Harry had been outright opposed from the first mention of it and had even flung a tantrum in the Headmaster's office about having to go.

Fiona quietly munched her cookie and then after taking a sip of tea, asked, "So, Harry, what's your favorite subject in school?" _It seemed a nice, neutral topic to make small talk,_ Fiona thought.

"Hmm," Harry pretended to think. "I suppose DADA."

"DADA?" Fiona was puzzled.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry stated and then added, "Forgot that you would have no clue about real subjects. You probably thought I would say literature or history or something totally Muggle, didn't you?"

"Actually, I didn't really know what sort of things you did, which is why I asked," Fiona responded. _Oh boy, this was going to be a fun filled evening,_ she thought to herself. It was more than clear that Harry didn't want to be here, didn't want her as a new guardian. Fiona had seen plenty of teens before in her neighborhood and at her church youth group back home. Once they had this attitude about them, there was no reasoning with them.

"I've done all sorts of things," Harry gave a rather fake smile. "Skinned flobberworms, replanted mandrakes, cared for bowtruckles. . ."

"Sounds interesting," Fiona commented. "Do mandrakes really scream?"

Harry blinked. "Um, well, yeah," he answered. He hadn't been expecting this woman to know anything about something magical. "How did you know about them?"

Dumbledore smiled to himself as he sipped his tea and let the two young people talk and hopefully come to an understanding.

Fiona laughed. "I read a lot, Harry. And there was a book that I read in this very house as a child that had different stories about plants in it. Some were true tales, such as how the thistle came to be the national flower of Scotland. And some were myths, about people being turned into flowers. Though," Fiona thought about it and glanced over at Dumbledore, "I suppose with the right spell that one wouldn't just be a myth. At any rate," she turned back to Harry, "there was a story about a witch and her dog going out to dig for mandrake root and she had to stop her ears with wax so as not to hear the scream."

"Professor Sprout made us use special earmuffs," Harry found himself relating. "Ours were only seedlings though and we just had to transplant them. That was my second year. And it turned out that the mandrakes had to be used in a potion that would unpetrify the ones that had seen the basilisk,"

Fiona blinked. "A basilisk? Those things are real??"

"Oh heck yeah!" Harry stated emphatically and was about to launch into the story of the one he had had to face in the Chamber of Secrets when what he was doing dawned on him. He was talking to this woman. The one he didn't want to be nice to. The one who was supposed to take Sirius' place. Stopping himself, Harry looked back down at his teacup.

Fiona noted the way Harry suddenly pulled back and sighed softly. She had seen the boy open up for a brief moment and hoped Dumbledore was right and that they would get along. Trying to behave as though nothing had happened to end the conversation, the young woman commented, "It seems I'm going to need to read some of these old books again. I had always thought Nana's books were just great stories. Apparently I was wrong."

"Yeah," Harry muttered quietly.

"Why don't you have another cookie?" Fiona tried.

"No thanks, I don't want any more," Harry replied, not looking at Fiona. Truthfully the teen could have easily managed at least two, maybe three more. If nothing else, this woman was a good cook as far as cookies went.

"Ah, Fiona, I have forgotten to tell you. Your request for readmission to the floo network was approved," Dumbledore intervened in the tenseness that had returned to the room. "Therefore the next time we visit, Harry and I can travel by floo. Of course, I will warn you ahead of time. Having us pop out of the fireplace could be rather unnerving."

The young woman laughed, "Yes, just a wee bit. Thank you for the consideration on my nerves, Albus."

"The next time? You keep saying that. Why are we coming back?" Harry spoke up. "I thought I was supposed to stay at school until holidays."

"Normally, yes, but this is a special case," the Headmaster informed Harry. "I think it would be best if you have a few more visits with Fiona before you come here for the summer."

"I don't think visits will help the fact that I'm being sent here regardless," Harry responded.

Fiona looked at the boy and then over at Albus, not knowing what to say.

"We talked about this, Harry," Dumbledore started.

"No, YOU talked about it," the teen answered angrily.

"Now is not the time or place, my boy," the Headmaster warned.

Harry snorted. "I don't see why not. Are you afraid that she can't handle knowing that I don't want to come here? That I don't want a replacement for Sirius? That no bloody muggle woman could EVER hope to come close to him??!" Harry stood up. "I'm ready to go!"

The blue eyes had lost their twinkle and Dumbledore set his cup down firmly. "Perhaps it is best if we leave after all. And we will as soon as you have apologized to Fiona."

"Why? I've done nothing wrong. I'm entitled to my opinion," Harry stated defiantly.

"Yes, you are, but having an opinion that you voice politely is far different than coming into my house and yelling like a spoiled brat," another voice cut in.

Both Albus and Harry turned to look at Fiona. The hazel eyes were darker now and her mouth was a straight line as she gave Harry a disapproving look.

"I have not tried to replace anyone and do not want to. Whether you stay here is entirely up to you. I will not force you to come. I had thought the idea was for you to be protected, but if you'd rather go somewhere else, I'm sure arrangements can be made. I'll show you out."

"My dear. . ." Dumbledore began, only to be cut off.

"It's fine if I get no apology, Albus. But I think I've had all the company I need or want for one evening," Fiona stated firmly.

There was more of Samantha McCool in this child then met the eye, the old wizard thought to himself as he nodded and steered Harry out the door to which they had been shown. "If things change, I will let you know. I assume that you are still willing to meet with us?"

Fiona nodded. "Yes, you will both be welcome here. But I would prefer if manners are used the next time."

"They will be," Albus assured her. "Have a good evening, my dear."

"Good bye, Albus; Harry," Fiona stood in the doorway as the duo walked down the drive. For a few moments, she had seen an eager young boy tonight, but there was a lot of hurt and bitterness inside Harry Potter. And with good reason from what little she had been told by Dumbledore.

Shaking her head as the dark haired young figure made his way out of sight, she wondered if there would be a next meeting and how well it would go.

oooooooooo

For the second time in a little over a week, Harry found himself in front of the house known around Heather Glen as McCool Manor. This time however his ears were still ringing from more than the after effects of apparating. Not only had Dumbledore been harsher with him than the teen would have ever given the old wizard credit for, Hermione had also lit into him in her own particular way.

Shaking his head slightly as though to clear things, Harry recalled the scene the night he had first gotten back from meeting his new cousin. Hermione and Ron had wanted to know everything of course, but Hermione had been less than impressed to hear how Harry reacted at the end of the visit.

"Harry! That is unbelievably rude!" the girl scolded once she and Ron had pulled Harry aside to hear details. "I can't believe you would be so mean!"

"Well I didn't want to go in the first place," Harry retorted defensively.

Hermione glared at him. "Oh like that's any real excuse." She shook her head.

"It is!" Harry bristled. "I don't want a replacement for Sirius! There is none!"

Ron spoke up then. "Would you two keep it down? You'll have folks looking at us." The red head nodded toward the main part of the common room. As of yet no one was much noticing the trio in their usual corner. But if Harry and Hermione started a true row then no way would they remain unnoticed.

"Folks are always looking at me anyway," Harry snapped at his best friend. His temper was up and had been most of the evening. "But that's just something else you two wouldn't understand totally. Just like you don't understand how it feels to be tossed from one person to the other with no one to really care about you. To be alone unless I'm here at Hogwarts."

His friends exchanged looks. They had heard similar things through the years and while they couldn't truly understand they could grasp enough to know that while Harry had every right to be upset he was going a bit too far. As usual it was Hermione that voiced her opinion.

"This isn't just about you , Harry," she stated and watched Harry's face register a bit of surprise. "What about her? Fiona. She left everything she knew behind and came all the way here from the States just because of Dumbledore's letter. That shows she obviously cares a little, wouldn't you say?"

"No, it doesn't prove anything," Harry argued stubbornly, even though Hermione's words made him think. He wasn't ready to give in just yet. "She was probably just curious. And besides, she had that house here to come check on."

"Oh, just stop it!" Hermione was rapidly losing patience. "Just stop, Harry. Stop trying to come up with excuses to back your feelings of hurt and think about what she gave up too. Stop trying so hard to hate her and give her a chance. Be fair about it and you never know what might happen. Who knows, you might find out you can get along. It's happened before when you gave a girl a chance." She gave him a meaningful look and stood up. "But it's up to you. I'm going to bed."

Harry sat looking after his friend as she headed to the girls' dormitory. A glance at Ron got him only a shrug and the comment that if things really did get too bad that Harry could always come to the Weasley's.

Like it or not, Hermione had made sense and as Harry had lain in his bed that night, and a few other nights, he had thought over them. Nothing he could do would bring Sirius back. The chance to be with him was gone for now. But there was someone who seemed willing to give him a chance to be with her. The question was, did he want to take the chance.

Reluctantly, Harry had agreed to visit Fiona again and that decision was what led to him standing here at the moment, once again hearing a stern reminder from Dumbledore to behave. Nodding at the older wizard at his side, Harry walked with the Headmaster to the door of the manor.

Albus had scolded Harry roundly for his lack of manners on the first trip to Fiona's home and the Headmaster only hoped that this visit would not prove to be a disaster as well. He had contacted Fiona and she had consented to have them this fine Saturday afternoon. And so the two wizards, one old and one young, now waited at the front door after Dumbledore had knocked. He had decided not to floo to Fiona's just yet after all and instead they had apparated to the end of the driveway and walked to the house.

Answering the knock, Fiona greeted her guests with a polite smile. "If you two don't mind, I have a few things to do out back. We can talk there. It's just too nice a day to stay inside after it has been raining the past two days here."

"Of course we don't mind, my dear," Dumbledore answered. "It has been years since I was in your grandmother's gardens. It will be a pleasure to see them again."

"Any and all credit for the flowers goes to Carlton," Fiona declared as she led them through the house, out the French doors at the back, across a large terrace complete with a fountain, and up a set of stone steps to a path way entering the gardens. "For one thing, I haven't been here and for another, I don't have Nana's gift for plants. I love them to look at, but if tending them was my job, I'm afraid this whole place would be barren."

Albus chuckled as he looked around at the hedges, interspersed here and there with color as azaleas lent their showy blossoms to the green foliage.. "And that would be a shame."

"Yes, sir, it would. Which is why I'm very grateful Carlton agreed to stay on as gardener," Fiona commented. Looking over at Harry who had remained quiet thus far, Fiona tried to gauge the young man's mood.

Harry felt the eyes on him and turned his attention to the woman. "It's a big garden," he commented. "That's a lot of work for one person to do. It's twice as big as the one at the Dursley's. And that was a job taking care of it."

Fiona wasn't sure what to say to that. She knew very little about Harry and his relatives. Only the bits and pieces that Dumbledore had told her. "Well, Carlton loves it," she responded and then added just in case he thought she was implying something. "And, don't worry, you won't have to help if you don't want to."

About to say that he didn't really mind it sometimes, Harry stopped himself and nodded instead. "Okay, good." He took note of the well tended beds and borders as the trio ambled along. This Carlton person was good at his work for sure. Harry couldn't spot a weed anywhere.

To the right of the main path was a small but neat shed which Harry assumed must be for storing the gardening things. No one was around and the boy wasn't going to ask. For now his objective was to be polite and just observe things.

"Here we are," Fiona announced shortly and stopped in a neat little area where a majestic oak seemed to take center stage, a swing hanging from one large branch, swaying invitingly as the other limbs stretching out to offer plenty of shade while a stone's throw away benches encircled the base of a beech tree. "This used to be one of my favorite spots as a child, mainly because I liked climbing this tree," she nodded at the oak with a grin. "But now that I'm older I decided having a swing here so I could relax and read would do better."

Harry couldn't help but give the woman a surprised grin. "You climbed trees?"

Fiona laughed. "Every summer here." She didn't mention that the rest of the year she was forced to be a proper schoolgirl, but here, everything, including herself, had always been free.

The teen nodded with a smile and as he was offered a seat, he sat down on the ground between the two trees. Fiona choose the swing and Dumbledore opted for the bench , leaning back against the trunk of the tree. The next hour was spent in casual, if fairly general conversation. However, it was done in a polite way and at the end of the visit as they made their way back to the house, each of them had a slightly better feeling about this arrangement. Even Harry.

oooooooooo

Two weeks later Fiona was in the kitchen washing her face and hands and getting a drink of cold water when she heard a sound from the sitting room. Glancing at the clock, she hurried to the other room. She'd done it again. . .lost track of time.

Even though Albus had sent her a letter by a rather friendly barn owl and told her to expect Harry today, nothing had possibly prepared Fiona for the sight of the youth stepping out of her fireplace. Resting a hand on the doorframe, she blinked as Harry brushed himself off. "Well, hello."

"Hi," Harry greeted, just as surprised in his turn. Even though he had learned on his last visit here that this woman had climbed trees in her younger days, he didn't truly expect to see an adult in old grubby looking blue jeans and a t-shirt with smudges on it. It reminded him of something that he would have worn to clean at the Dursley's. And the hair pulled into a ponytail coupled with the clothes was a different look to the neatly dressed woman who had met him on his previous times here. "Um, are you. . .working on something?" he ventured.

"As a matter of fact I am," Fiona smiled. "Come on and we can socialize outside."

"Do you ever stay inside?" Harry questioned as he once again followed Fiona out the back way and down the garden path.

Laughing, Fiona nodded. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do. But I love being out on nice days as well. And besides, I still have a lot of work to do around here to get things the way I want them."

The two of them made their way past the swing where they had stopped before. Harry gave a questioning look as they passed yet Fiona never paused, seeming to have a destination in mind. Rounding a turn in the path the gardens gave way to an open area with another stone building. The fenced pasture beside it gave it away at once.

"You have horses?" Harry couldn't help himself and the question sprang forth.

"Not yet, but we will have," Fiona smiled. "I have some more cleaning to do and then I'll have to go to a few sales and see what's available. Do you like horses, Harry?"

The boy shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Fiona chuckled. "How can you not be sure?"

"Well, I've never really been around them," Harry answered. "In the pictures they're nice."

"They are very nice," Fiona stated emphatically as she entered the stone stable, taking up the broom that had been left there from her previous cleaning efforts. "Nana had two horses when I used to stay here and I plan to have at least two myself; possibly three. There's room in the stables for four, but I think three would be a plenty."

"So you can ride?" Harry questioned as he watched Fiona carefully. The young woman was busily working as though she wasn't afraid of hard work.

A merry laugh was his answer at first. "Of course I can ride. I grew up with horses here and I always took equestrian classes at boarding school. . .whichever one I happened to be dumped at for that year."

There was a slightly bitter note to the last comment that made Harry regard Fiona even closer. "Did you go to a lot of different schools?"

"Not especially." Fiona shrugged as she tackled the last stall, sweeping out cobwebs and giving a slight shudder before stomping on a spider. "Geez, I hate those things," she declared before turning her attention back to Harry's question. "I went to a couple here and then one in the states, not to mention a private all girls' college."

Seeing the reaction to the spider Harry snickered slightly. "You and Ron would get along," he said with a slight smile.

"And who might Ron be?" Fiona shoved a loose strand of hair back.

"My best mate," the teen answered matter-of-factly. "He's scared to death of spiders."

"Ah, then yep. Have to invite him to tea sometime with that much in common." Fiona grinned at Harry and was thrilled to see the boy return it with an easy smile.

"I'll take care of any more you find," Harry offered. "They don't bother me so much."

"Go right ahead," Fiona waved toward a door that led to the long neglected tack room. "I've been putting off cleaning in there."

"Got another broom?" Harry questioned.

"First stall on the left. I've been keeping the cleaning things there instead of in the tack room, for obvious reasons."

And so it was when Dumbledore flooed to the manor some time later because Harry had not arrived back at Hogwarts at the appointed time for dinner, he found Harry and Fiona dusty and dirty from cleaning out the stables, but chatting away as they both reclined on the grass in the back garden. With a twinkle in his eye, the old wizard nodded. His first instincts were right. This would work out after all.


	3. Chapter 3 The End for Some

Chapter 3 - The End for Some

Two months

Two months. That was all it had taken for his world to change yet again. And now this. Why? Harry wondered for the thousandth time in the past four years. Why did it always seem to happen that just when he had any hope at all of being happy, something happened to crush that hope.

First there was the general happiness of Hogwarts itself. Being there, actually feeling he belonged somewhere. But that was taken away from him every summer when he was forced to return to his aunt and uncle's 'care'. Then there was the happiness at finding out that Sirius was his godfather, only to have him have to leave and go into hiding so that going to live with him was out of the question. Then there was the summer spent at Grimmauld Place and being with Sirius for a few weeks. Granted it hadn't been exactly as he had imagined, but still there had been some good times. But Sirius was gone now. Harry's hopes of being happy had been ripped away when his godfather went on the raid against all orders. One flick of a wand and the boy had been left with only the Dursleys again. Or so he had thought.

Harry smiled to himself. He had been unable to believe the idea when Dumbledore had first told him he had a cousin. From the States no less! And that SHE was going to be his new guardian. The fifteen year old had fought the idea fully. At least at first. But between the combined efforts of his friends, especially Hermione, and the insistence of the Headmaster that Harry give Fiona a chance, the young wizard had been taken back to see her twice after the initial visit. And the boy had found that she really wasn't so bad. After that he started going to visit every other week on his own, using the floo in Dumbledore's office. The relationship was growing and each of them had become more comfortable with the other through the visits and the letters exchanged.

Of course, the fact that she had a grand place to live was a plus, the boy thought to himself now with a sad smile at the thought he'd likely not get to explore it as he had planned. Harry had actually been looking forward to going to stay the summer with his 'Aunt Fi' as they had decided he would call her.

But now that was to be taken away from him. The Order had received word, via Snape, that Voldermort was ready to make his last stand and believed himself fully capable of taking down the Boy Who Lived this time. So instead of packing and getting ready to go home in three days for a summer of fun, Harry Potter found himself standing in the Hogwarts owlery, contemplating the fact that he might not even live to see the summer holidays, let alone have happy ones.

Hedwig gave a soft hoot from her perch on the ledge and Harry looked around to find Dumbledore entering the owlery.

"I thought I might find you here," the old wizard said.

With a nod, Harry turned back to staring out at the expanse of sky.

Dumbledore moved over beside the boy. "A lot on your mind, I daresay."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, you could say that. Just thinking which curse would be best to use or which one I might be killed by." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

The Headmaster sighed. "It is always best to be prepared, Harry, but I do not think attempting to second guess the future is wise right now. Your instincts have served you well in the past and will this time as well. Dwelling on it too much is counter productive."

Something in Harry snapped at the 'advice' from the old wizard. "Dwelling on it?? I don't WANT to dwell on it!! Hell, I'd rather know nothing about it!! All I want is to go home and enjoy my bloody holidays like everyone else! But NO, I get to run off and risk my life for the good of all. Again! I get to likely watch as other people I care about are killed even if I'm not. Again! I'm bloody sick of it!! It's not fair!!" Harry didn't care how childish the last sounded, it was how he felt and tears were welling up in his eyes by the end of the rant.

Listening to the upset boy, Albus felt a twinge of sorrow for what Harry had gone through and would still have to go through. But, unfortunately, that couldn't be helped. "There is much in life that is not fair, my boy."

"That's it? THAT's your words of wisdom??"

"I'm afraid so. I can not do anything about your fate any more than you can, Harry."

"You don't understand," Harry's voice grew as soft now as it had been loud moments earlier. He slid down to sit on one of the larger rock ledges. "I had it all planned. The whole summer. Aunt Fi was going to let me go exploring and riding. She even said she would go with me and show me some of the places she used to go. There would be other kids in the village and she promised to introduce me to some of them so I could have some friends. Ron and Hermione would be allowed to visit. There's even a carnival in the summer in Heather Glen. It lasts an entire weekend and we were going to it!" By now the tears were streaking Harry's face but he paid them no mind. "It was going to be. . .normal. I was going to be. . .just Harry."

Dumbledore stepped to the youth's side and put his arms around Harry. "I know, child. And I'm so sorry."

Harry leaned against the old man and cried for some time. At last the tears stopped and he pulled back, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Sorry about that, sir."

"No need to be," Dumbledore smiled. "Your reaction was perfectly natural, my boy. You are a young man who has had to face many things which should not have been thrust upon you. Unfortunately, they were. In a case such as that, the only thing to do is make the best of them and move forward."

The green eyes regarded the Headmaster for a long moment before Harry nodded. "Yeah, make the best of them." How he was supposed to do that the boy wasn't totally sure. The best would be if Voldermort was gone once and for all. But could he do it? Was Harry Potter truly capable of taking down the evilest wizard of his time?

Dumbledore saw the worry flicker across the young face but knew there was nothing he could do to dispel it completely. Harry was as prepared for things as he could be. However there were others who were likely not. Changing the subject, the white haired wizard questioned, "Have you sent Fiona word of things?"

Sighing, the teen shook his head.

"Come to my office then and we will write the letters together." With a hand on Harry's shoulder, the Headmaster guided the boy from the owlry.

oooooooooo

For what had to be the hundredth time in the last two hours, Fiona found herself at a window. This time it was the window of her bedroom. She sat down on the window seat and stared out at the sky. It was dark now and the stars were shining. Earlier it had been only dusky, the muted color of twilight. She had sought out the first faint glimmer of starlight in the gathering blackness, chanting the childish rhyme and wishing with all her heart that the much more evil encroaching darkness in another part of the land did not overcome the young teen who had come to be a light in her world.

As the hazel eyes looked out at the darkened world, Fiona's thoughts were far from McCool Manor and the village of Heather Glen. She wondered what was going on at this very moment. Was the Order holding its own? Had there been any causalities? Was the vile wizard in the midst of the fray or was he holed away somewhere, waiting for Harry to come to him?

Harry. Fiona swallowed hard as she tried to force back the other thoughts that had plagued her all evening, indeed since she had learned of this plan. Was he alright? Had he been hurt. . .or worse? Had he somehow managed to destroy Voldermort already? Her fears had her searching the sky, knowing rationally that she would see no sign of anything from this far away, but longing to know if Harry was alive and well.

It didn't seem possible that until a few months ago she hadn't even known of the existence of a young man by the name of Harry Potter. One letter had changed everything for her and despite a less that smooth beginning together, she and Harry were dealing with the rocky points in their growing relationship. The letters from both Harry and Dumbledore telling her about the battle to come had unnerved the young woman. She was grateful that she had been allowed a last visit from her young charge. Now all she could do was pray for news. . .good news. . .and a visit that would last the entire summer as they had planned.

oooooooooo

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for what he saw and heard. At first the area was still, without even a whisper of wind it seemed. As still as. . .as still as a grave. Harry had shivered as that thought ran through his head.

Their forces had all spread out, wands at the ready. Alert. Vigilant. He managed a slight hint of a smile thinking of how even as they moved into positions, Mad Eye's catch phrase had been issued as a final warning to all by the old Auror. _Constant vigilance_.

And it had paid off. That and Lupin's keen sense of hearing and smell. He had been the first to note someone unfamiliar. Then there had been movement. And then. . .

Then things seemed to happen all at once. The stillness was shattered into a thousand shards like a broken window pane. Yells of fury and horror mingled with the shouts of curses. Flashes of light were flung across the dark expanse like a multicolored fireworks display. The smell of sweat and fear hung like an ominous cloak, overwhelming, suffocating. It was soon joined by even darker sights and sounds. Blood and death.

Harry fought to bring his emotions under control. He had to be single-minded. He couldn't allow the fact that he heard a high pitched scream come from the direction he had seen Ginny run earlier. He couldn't allow himself to stop and think what the hex he had thrown at the now writhing form of a Death Eater was doing to the victim. He had to press on. He had to find Voldermort.

oooooooooo

The morning sun rose, as bright as ever, casting shadows away, warming, cheering. It looked into a window, attempting to urge awake an exhausted young woman who had fallen asleep at last on the window seat. It shone, and briefly flickered on what had once been a peaceful spot of ground but now bore the undeniable marks of a battlefield. It filtered through trees, sparkled on a wide lake, and at last peeped through tall leaded glass panes to view a crowded room full of beds and cots.

The hospital wing at Hogwarts was full to capacity. Having known the extent this battle would reach, Poppy had ordered things moved around to provide enough space. And now, the mediwitch, along with several competent helpers, moved from bed to bed, dispensing medicine, changing bandages, offering encouragement.

It had been a long night, the longest that Poppy Pomfrey could recall in many years. As more and more wounded were brought in she thanked Merlin that Severus Snape had had the forethought to stock every available shelf with potions, some of which the mediwitch had never had on hand before. But then the Potions Master knew better than she what sorts of things the Dark Lord and his followers were capable of and what would best counteract the injuries caused.

As the sunlight filled the room, Madame Pomfrey paused at the foot of a bed to survey the room. It was not a pretty sight if one looked at the beds full of sleeping or in some cases softly moaning victims. But if the viewer knew what it all meant in the grand scheme of things, it was a wonderful sight.

Perhaps the most wonderful was that of a dark haired young teen lying on a bed near the far end of the room. His glasses were on the nightstand beside the bed and at his side were a bushy haired girl and a red headed boy with bandages covering his right hand.

Poppy bustled over, scolding lightly, "I told you two to let him rest. And Mr. Weasely, you are still supposed to be in bed yourself."

"Don't see why," Ron commented. "The cuts on my legs are fine now. It's just my hand."

"I'll be the judge of that. Now back to bed," the mediwitch ordered, pointing sternly to a vacant bed four down from Harry's.

Rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath, Ron did as he was told. He was thankful that it was merely Madame Pomfrey and not his mother fussing over him. Though he could have done without the fact that Mrs. Weasely's attention was on Fred at the moment while Charlie and Bill looked after their father, the lanky youth was still glad that he was spared a little of the constant nagging.

Hermione stayed at Harry's side until a shadow fell over the bed. She glanced up and smiled at Professor McGonagall. "He did it," the girl commented rather unnecessarily.

"He certainly did," the older witch agreed with a smile. She placed one hand on Hermione's shoulder and gave a light squeeze and then used the other hand to smooth back Harry's hair. "It is truly amazing that he wasn't hurt more from that blast."

The mousey head nodded as Hermione thought of the blast from Voldermort which had seemed to condense and zero in on Harry's head. True he had been knocked twenty feet backwards, but it had not killed him, something that even Voldermort had seemed surprised by. Before the evil wizard could throw out the older and more tried and true Avada Kedavra, Harry had regained his wits enough to use the killing curse himself. With an unearthly shriek, Tom Riddle had met his end. Hermione shuddered as she recalled it.

McGonagall gave the girl another squeeze. "Try not to think about it, dear," she advised. "We all know that the curse normally doesn't react that way."

"What caused it to this time?" Hermione questioned.

"A very powerful magic," another voice put in and both witches turned to see Albus Dumbledore standing there. His clothes had been changed from the torn ones he had worn when they first arrived from the battle, but his face still showed a bit more age and fatigue than usual. Regardless of the fact that it was now over, the night had taken a toll on the old wizard just as it had everyone involved.

Looking down at the young hero, Dumbledore continued to explain. "When Harry spoke the killing curse there was more involved than usual. Not only did Harry truly want to kill Tom, he wanted with all his heart for it to be over forever. When the intense longing from a person with goodness and love in them encountered the pure evilness and darkness that made up Voldermort, the result was a cleansing flame of light."

Both Hermione and Minerva nodded, their minds on the way in which Voldermort had died. The usual green flash of light had been there but instead of only killing the Dark Lord, the green glow had seemed to envelop him for a moment. Then in a split second as Voldermort had screamed, there had been a brilliant flash of white light, nearly blinding. And Tom Riddle's body had incinerated, leaving behind nothing but ashes of the once evil wizard.

A small sound from the bed caused all three gathered near to turn to the young wizard lying there. Harry forced his eyes open and focused on Dumbledore. His throat felt scratchy and he hurt all over, but after hearing whispers in his dream-like state, he had to know for sure. In a voice that was hoarse and broken, Harry questioned, "H. . .he's gone? Real. . .really g. . .gone??"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Harry, really gone. You did it, my boy. We will no longer have to worry about Tom Riddle."

Harry gave a deep sigh and nodded, closing his eyes and sinking back into sleep.

Hermione put a hand to her mouth and Minerva put her arms around the younger witch, patting the girl's back. "Why don't you go and see about Mr. Weasley? Without you or someone around then I'm afraid Madame Pomfrey will have a problem keeping him confined to bed."

Smiling at the all too true comment, Hermione left the Head of Gryffindor and the Headmaster and moved away to keep Ron company.

Minerva looked at Dumbledore after they were alone. "Have you spoken to Fiona yet?"

"No, though it is on my list of things to do this morning," Dumbledore replied as he guided Minerva away from Harry's bed.

The woman nodded and then glanced up at the Headmaster. "Poppy seems to think most will recover if given enough time."

The old wizard sighed softly. "Most. . .yes."

"Is it that bad then?" McGonagall asked with concern, her voice softening.

"Two spells mingled together, Minerva. Either of which could have had devastating effects." Dumbledore shook his head. "All we can do is wait."

Minerva reached out to give her friend's arm a squeeze. "I'll stay here and see to things. You need to alert Fiona and a few others."

Seeming to pull himself together, the Headmaster nodded and after a last glance at certain areas of the room, he left the infirmary and made his way to his office.

oooooooooo

Fiona would have run through the halls had she had a clue as to where she was going. As it was, she had to match her pace with Albus' as they headed to the infirmary. She had been pacing in her sitting room earlier when a voice called her name and she turned to see Dumbledore's face in her fireplace requesting that she floo to Hogwarts. Though it was her first time and a heck of a surprise, the young woman couldn't have cared less that she landed in a heap on the Headmaster's floor. Only one thing mattered now. Yes, she had Albus' word that Harry was resting quietly and being taken care of, but she wanted to see her young charge with her own eyes; wanted to prove to herself that he was in fact safe.

As they entered the hospital wing, Fiona looked around at all the full beds and the concerned family and friends around each one. She sucked in her breath.

Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder as she hesitated. "I know how it looks, my dear, but the truth of the matter is it could have been much worse. We lost several, yes, but the casualties were not as high as we had feared. It helped to be forewarned."

"I am so thankful that you had a spy. To think someone was willing to try to pretend to be on both sides," Fiona shook her head. "I've heard Harry's version of Professor Snape, but he has to be a strong man to accomplish all he did."

"Indeed," Albus responded with a sad smile.

Fiona had spotted Harry and now forgot all else as she hurried the few remaining feet to the teen's bedside.

Madame Pomfrey looked up as Fiona came over. "I assume that you are Fiona," the mediwitch commented with a slight smile. "I am Poppy Pomfrey. It's a shame to have to meet Harry's new guardian under these conditions."

"Yes ma'am," Fiona replied. "How is he? How badly is he hurt? Will he be alright?"

"Calm down, dear," Poppy shushed the excited younger woman, motioning her to a chair beside the bed. "He's doing very well, considering who he was up against. Some residual effects from a few hexes, but that is being counteracted by potions. How he managed not to wind up with a concussion or any broken bones from the force of the main spell that I understand was thrown at him is beyond me, but then he is young and in this case it served him well. Numerous bruises and superficial cuts, but those will heal easily."

Fiona had not taken advantage of the offered chair, rather choosing to stand beside Harry and rub the slim hand which lay on top of the blanket. She let out a breath that she had been holding at Poppy's words and turned her attention to the mediwitch. "Thank goodness. I'm so relieved to hear that it wasn't any worse. Just to know that he was. . ." she broke off and swallowed hard.

Poppy moved to Fiona's side and put an arm around her shoulders. "I know. It's horrible having to wait. The not knowing, the fear, the what if's." At Fiona's nod, the older woman smiled and squeezed Fiona's shoulder.

The hazel eyes met the kind one of the mediwitch and Fiona smiled. "Thank you." Glancing back at Harry, she questioned, "Has he been awake? Or did you give him a potion or something."

"She gave me something," came a quiet voice from the bed before Madame Pomfrey could respond. "And," Harry shifted and looked up at them, "it tasted vile. Betcha Snape made it for me on purpose."

"Harry! Oh, Harry!" Fiona leaned down to hug the boy.

"Hi Aunt Fi," the teen replied, one arm going around the young woman and returning the hug.

Madame Pomfrey watched the two with a smile for a long moment before commenting. "That potion was necessary, Mr. Potter. And you should be grateful _Professor_ Snape had it ready." She stressed the word professor and gave Harry a look.

"I'd be more grateful if he could make them taste decent," Harry grumbled.

Both women shook their heads at the typical boyish remark and Poppy stated briskly, "Well perhaps you will not have to take any more if that cleared the last of the hex out of your system. We'll have to see when I do another scan a bit later. For now I will allow you a little time to visit. But when I return and say you need rest, I expect to be obeyed." The older woman gave Harry a stern look to accompany the last comment.

"He will," Fiona assured Poppy and though Harry gave a disgruntled sigh, the mediwitch took Fiona's reassurance as fact and with a nod left the pair.

Once alone, Fiona turned her full attention to the teen. "I have been SO worried," she stated unnecessarily. "I wish that I could have done something. At least been here waiting when you first arrived. There are times that being a Muggle makes me feel so useless."

"Don't, Aunt Fi," Harry replied. "It's not your fault. We both know Dumbledore told you to wait. And. . ." the boy swallowed, "with some of the things you could have seen. . .I'm glad he did."

Fiona perched on the edge of the bed and smoothed a hand through the dark hair. "That's just it. If I would have been upset by them, you certainly didn't need to see them at your age." Sighing as she realized this young one had already seen so much more and been through more than she could began to imagine, Fiona continued, "But all that is over now and you're coming home just as soon as Madame Pomfrey allows it."

Harry smiled at the gesture and the protective tone in his guardian's voice. It was something that he had heard before when Mrs. Weasley spoke to her children, but he had never really thought to hear it directed to him. Granted Mrs. Weasley had worried about him, even Professor McGonagall had in her own way. And Sirius had conveyed his feelings in a bit gruffer manner but they were there. But this was different somehow. It was love and concern of a more motherly type, but unlike with Molly, it was solely for him. Harry had someone that cared about him and would take care of him now and that made him feel as though things truly would work out this time.

"Well, I'm ready whenever," the teen stated. "We could go now."

"Hardly," Fiona smiled at the predictable response from Harry. "You still need to be monitored for the rest of the day I'd guess. That is if wizard hospitals are at all like what I'm used to."

With a little groan, Harry responded, "I suppose. But I do feel better."

"Good. But we're still going to get Madame Pomfrey's approval." Fiona leaned over to hug her young charge, kissing the top of his head.

Blushing slightly at the kiss, Harry nodded and laid back on his pillows. He wasn't about to admit he was still tired and sore. Instead he just enjoyed Fiona's attentions as she straightened his covers and tucked him in again.

She had just finished when Poppy returned to the bed and gave a nod at the proceedings. "Very nice. I can see you will make a competent nurse once he is released," the mediwitch commented.

"When will that be?" Harry questioned.

"Probably tomorrow," Pomfrey responded withdrawing a bottle and spoon from the large pocket of her voluminous apron.

"Tomorrow?!" Harry protested and then seeing the potion he doubled the complaining, "Not that stuff again!"

Madame Pomfrey calmly continued pouring the contents of the bottle into the spoon. "Yes, again. Of course if you wish to be here for about a week. . ."

"No! No, I'll take it," Harry quickly changed his mind.

Fiona turned her head slightly and tried to hide a grin at the reaction.

Harry reluctantly swallowed the potion, with a grimace that would have made one think he was being tortured more with this than any spell he'd ever been hit with.

With a smile, Poppy capped the bottle and returned it to her pocket, patted Harry on the head, and stated, "And now you need to rest."

"But," Harry began only to stop at the look he received from both women. Giving a sigh of defeat the teen gave in. "Oh alright, but only for a little while."

Fiona gave him another hug. "I'll be here when you wake up," she promised.

Within minutes the green eyes had closed and Harry had drifted to sleep. Madame Pomfrey and Fiona moved away from the bed slightly and conversed in low tones, Fiona offering to help as much as possible if the mediwitch needed it. Poppy agreed, giving the younger woman easy tasks to perform with some of the milder injuries.

Thus by the time Harry was awake again, Fiona had become acquainted with Hermione and the Weasley clan. But she returned often to check on the one young patient that mattered above the rest to her.

Harry smiled when he opened his eyes to find Fiona bending over his bed again. "Hi again."

"Hi yourself," Fiona laughed. "Have a good rest?"

"Uh huh," the dark head nodded.

Fiona brought Harry some food and they talked a bit until Madame Pomfrey came by to check on Harry and preformed a scan with her wand. Things appeared nearly normal and with the firm promise that yes, he would definitely be going home in the morning, Harry rested easier and enjoyed some time with Fiona, Hermione, and Ron, who had finally been granted permission to sit near Harry's bed.

After the evening meal, Fiona tucked Harry in and kissed him, promising that she would stay with him. The Headmaster had ordered the young woman to go home and get some rest of her own, knowing that she had not really gotten any the previous night, citing the fact that she could simply floo back to the castle at dawn. But Fiona, with all the stubbornness of her grandmother, had refused, saying that she would be fine one more night and she was staying with Harry. They would both be able to get needed rest once they were at home, but for now no force could induce Fiona to leave the boy. At last even Dumbledore had to give up, chuckling that she was as strong-willed as Samantha. A large comfortable chair was placed beside Harry's bed and Fiona ensconced herself in it for the night, both she and Harry feeling better knowing the other was nearby.


	4. Chapter 4 A New Beginning

A/N: Here's the next chapter and it is largely Severus centered. So for all my readers who wanted to know when he would appear and how I was going to tie him into things...here you are. grin Enjoy!

A New Beginning 

A gentle hand smoothed the dark hair off the young face before him and the patient stirred slightly only to have a small moan escape involuntarily.

"Lie still, my boy," Albus spoke quietly.

Dark eyes looked up and Snape whispered, "Hurts, Albus."

The blue eyes for a brief moment registered pain at what the younger man was going through and then it was gone. "I know, child. I am so sorry."

"Not. . .not your fault," the younger wizard managed to get out. "Casualty of war."

"If only we could find a strong enough pain draught. . ." the Headmaster began.

Snape's voice gained strength and he looked up at the older man. "Don't you dare try to. And I forbid any of you to use the ones we DO have on me. I'll not have them wasted like that!"

"Severus, they would not be a waste."

"No, Albus. I mean it," the Potions Master stated in a firmer voice, more like his normal one. "I've already spoken to Poppy about it."

Dumbledore looked slightly defeated. "Then you know."

"Know what?" Snape attempted to sneer but the image was ruined by a thin trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away and continued. "That there is nothing left to be done for me? That the healing potions, even coupled with your powerful magic, are not enough?" The younger wizard looked up at the older one. "That I'm dying?"

Albus closed his eyes a moment. Hearing it put that way, by the young man who had served the Order so faithfully, he felt a tightening in his chest. He nodded.

"I've known it since the battle, Albus. It was meant to be," Snape stated with calmness that he didn't truly feel. Inside he was scared, terrified even. He had faced tortures uncountable for years, had stared death in the face before, but this time. . . this time was different. This time there would be no wily maneuvers, no last minute escapes. No, this was the end of Severus Snape. He had to accept that and others did as well.

"Oh Severus, my dear child." Dumbledore again stroked the dark hair. "With all my heart I wish that things could have been different."

Any other time Snape would have pulled away from the touch, would have scorned the blatant show of affection, would have disdained the emotions and sentimentality. But not now. Now, at the end, it helped. The touch was comforting. And to know that he had at least been cared about by this one old man. . .well it helped it seem worthwhile. "I wish a lot of things, Albus," Severus whispered.

Dumbledore looked down at the younger wizard and was heartbroken to see a single tear slowly slide down the pale face. "You deserved more, Severus, so much more. You deserved a chance at a more normal life. You deserved to be cared about, to be loved. All the things that made life worthwhile were ever denied you, my poor boy. If I could have just one wish, I wish I could change all that for you. Reshape the past. Give you the life that you should have had. The one that you so richly deserved."

Severus gazed up at the loving old face and heard the quiet words. With a faintest hint of a smile, the Potions Master closed his eyes and breathed, "I wish that too, sir."

oooooooooo

The morning sunlight filtered through the windows of the infirmary and a shaft fell on a chair that had not been vacant for days, yet now it was. The bed beside the empty chair no longer held the former Potions Master. That man was gone. The figure that now occupied the bed was much smaller, that of a child.

As if the sun had managed to tease the boy awake, he stretched and yawned, dark eyes opening and looking around him in confusion. Where was he? He tried hard to remember and was just beginning to somewhat sort out a few very fuzzy memories when a woman appeared by his bed, gave a gasp and fled. Looking down at himself, the boy tried to figure out why she had reacted that way. He had on his nightshirt after all and he didn't guess his hair was any more of a mess than usual. Shrugging at the oddity, the child was about to swing his legs over the edge and leave the bed when an old man arrived.

"Good morning, young man," the silver haired man smiled at the boy. "And how are you feeling?"

"Good morning, sir. I feel lots better," the dark haired boy answered and then cocked his head. "I remember you! You're the Professor!"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Indeed I am, Severus. And I am very very glad to see that you are feeling better. I was quite worried about you." He took his place in the chair where he had held vigil over the older Snape until last night.

"Well. . ." Severus looked around and then leaned forward and confided quietly, "my arm still hurts, but I don't want any nasty potions. Please?"

The blue eyes twinkled at the request from the little boy and Albus nodded. "I will do my best to convince Madam Pomfrey that none are necessary, but we will have to see when she examines you."

Severus wrinkled his nose and sighed.

"For now though, she is busy with other patients so you and I have a chance to talk." Dumbledore regarded Severus. "Can you tell me what you remember, child? Why you are here."

"It's all fuzzy," Severus responded as he tried to concentrate. "But. . .there was a. . .a battle. With magic. I was there. And lots of other people. And there were spells flying around." The boy could recall the yells of incantations, the screams of victims, and the different colored spells, though green seemed a prominent color. He shivered slightly at the memory. "I saw. . .some of them. . .they. . .they were killed."

The Headmaster rose from his chair and went to the bed, putting an arm around the slim child. "Yes, yes they were, Severus. A great many were either lost or hurt, like you were."

"You," the dark eyes looked up at Dumbledore. "You were there. I got hurt and you brought me here."

The silver head nodded. "You were hurt very badly and I was worried. Madam Pomfrey did all she could for you. But time seemed to be the only thing that could change things." The old wizard smiled as he spoke. All the words were true and time had been the only thing that could help Severus; a change in time. And thanks to the medallion he had given the younger wizard long ago, and that was still in place around Severus' neck, it had been possible.

"I'm going to be all right now?" the boy inquired.

"I do believe so. But as I said, Madam Pomfrey will need to check things out," Dumbledore responded.

As if on cue the mediwitch appeared and this time did not run away, though she still looked rather in shock as she asked Severus if he remembered his name.

"Of course I do. I'm seven after all," the boy replied as if his 'mature' age should tell the woman something. "I'm Severus Snape."

Dumbledore chuckled at the answer and when Pomfrey looked over at him, he nodded. "We can talk more once you've examined the patient, Poppy."

"We certainly can, Headmaster," the woman agreed, giving Albus a look. She then ran her wand over Severus and once the general scans were done, she felt the arm which had registered still a bit sprained during the scan.

Severus flinched slightly, though he tried not to, when his arm was examined.

"Mmhmm, just as I thought. We will need to keep that in a sling for two or three more days," Madam Pomfrey commented as she started to pull up the boy's night shirt.

"What are you doing?!" Severus asked, struggling to keep the night shirt pulled down and the covers pulled up. No way was he undressing in front of this woman!

"I need to check your ribs. Several of them were broken and though they seem to be healed, I want to make sure there is no residual pain," the mediwitch explained.

"There's not!" the boy hastily assured her. "I'm fine." His hands clutched at the night shirt.

Poppy tried not to laugh. "Oh for Merlin's sake, Severus, it's not as though I haven't seen boys without their shirt on before. Now stop being silly and let me pull it up and make certain you are alright."

Frowning, Severus reluctantly allowed Madam Pomfrey to complete the check up.

"It appears that your arm is the only concern now," she announced.

"I told you that!" Severus declared, tugging his shirt down.

"Now, Severus, we just have to be certain," Dumbledore smiled. "We all want you to be completely well."

The little boy still didn't appear too appeased, but when the Headmaster told him he needed to lay back down and rest for a while and allow Albus and Pomfrey time to talk, Severus obligingly obeyed.

oooooooooo

"And what happened?" Madame Pomfrey demanded once she and Dumbledore were safely ensconced in the mediwitch's office.

"Severus has been deaged."

"I can see that, Albus!"

Chuckling, the Headmaster took a seat calmly. "Perhaps we should alert Minerva as well. I would just as soon tell both of you at once."

Poppy glared at the man but went to the fireplace and within a short while Professor McGonagall was stepping into the office. "What is so urgent?" she questioned, looking at each of her colleagues in turn.

"Somehow, for some reason, Albus has deaged Severus," Madame Pomfrey responded.

"I would think the reason is obvious, Poppy," Albus commented. "You examined the child after all."

"Well, that's true," the mediwitch acknowledged and then spoke to the slightly confused Minerva once more. "He's fine, Minerva. A sprained shoulder. Other than that, Severus Snape appears to be a normal little boy."

"You mean. . ." Minerva tried to take it all in. She, as well as the other two occupants of the room had been aware of the critical condition of the Potions Master.

"He is in no danger now and will be able to have a proper childhood," Dumbledore informed them.

"But I thought deaging potions had been ruled out as a way to help?" Minerva commented.

"They were. This was not a potion, Minerva." The blue eyes twinkled. "It was a wish."

"A wish?" Both witches voiced their amazement and looked at each other and then the old wizard.

Dumbledore chuckled and nodded. "Indeed, yes. A simple but heart felt wish. Aided of course by the Desiderium Medallion."

Understanding registered and Minerva smiled. "How old is he then, Albus?"

"Seven. As you know the medallion chooses the best age for the wearer, should a choice like this be made. But it can never be over thirty years regression," the silver haired wizard explained.

"Then he will be too young to attend school here." McGonagall frowned slightly. "Not to mention classes are now over for the summer. What will we do with him, Albus?"

"Leave that to me, my dear," the wily Headmaster smiled.

"You are doing nothing with him for the moment," Poppy interjected. "That child needs to stay here another two days for me to keep him under observation. If the younger version is anything like the Severus Snape we all knew from age eleven onward, he will be trying to use that arm before he should, regardless of my orders!"

The comment brought laughter and nodding from the other two occupants of the room and it was agreed that Dumbledore would look into his 'idea' and that Severus would remain in the hospital wing under Poppy's care for a few more days.

oooooooooo

Fiona entered the hospital wing, Harry beside her, and both wearing a puzzled look as to why the Headmaster had requested that they meet him here and not in his office. It had been almost a week since the Dark Lord had met his match, thanks to the young man by her side and Fiona had to fight back the urge to pull Harry into a hug once again. He had risked so much and Fiona had been so relieved to have him safe that Harry had been in more danger of being smothered and spoiled in the past few days than ever before.

At first the teen had enjoyed the attention and soaked it up like a sponge, but then like a typical youth Harry had begun to wrinkle his nose or roll his eyes at the petting. Finally yesterday he had flat out told Fiona to stop fussing over him and treat him like normal. Of course the boy had rethought his decision a bit when Fiona had declared it was his bedtime and refused to be swayed by the fact he wanted to stay up. Harry knew deep down that he did need the extra rest, but to be sent off to bed at only ten o'clock at his age was downright wrong if you asked the teen.

Now as they entered the infirmary, Harry wondered what Dumbledore wanted them for. The message they had received by owl was rather cryptic. Then again when weren't the old wizard's words, written or spoken, a bit of a puzzle. Surely the Headmaster hadn't requested the hospital wing because he wanted Madam Pomfrey to look over Harry again! No, the boy drew the line there. He was fine and refused to be prodded anymore.

Almost all of those injured in the last battle were now back with their families and friends. Empty beds lined the walls, but further down, near Madame Pomfrey's office, a screen was still pulled near a bed, indicating that there was still at least one patient remaining.

"Ah, Harry, Fiona," Dumbledore appeared from Pomfrey's office. "I thought I heard you enter."

"Hello, sir," Harry answered politely.

"Hello, Albus," Fiona smiled.

The Headmaster smiled back. "I'm glad that you came. No doubt you are wondering why I need your help and why I chose here to meet." At the looks the younger two exchanged and the nods he received, Dumbledore chuckled and directed their attention to a table near the back of the wing. "There is your answer."

A small boy was seated at the table, dark head bent over whatever it was that he was diligently working on. His left arm was in a sling, but the youngster seemed to be making do with his right. Fiona thought she saw the child sneak a glance in their direction before dropping his head down even further.

"Who is that?" she inquired quietly.

"Severus Snape," Dumbledore answered calmly.

"Sever. . .? THAT's Professor Snape??" Harry blinked in amazement. "What happened??"

"Not Professor any longer, Harry," Dumbledore corrected. "Merely Severus now. Just a seven year old boy."

"But how??" Harry was still in shock.

With a quick flick of his wand, Dumbledore created a privacy shield around himself and his two companions and then the silver haired wizard explained. "As you know, Severus was gravely wounded in the last battle. There was nothing that could be done for him and he was on the verge of leaving this world."

"So you deaged him to save him?" Harry guessed.

"No," Albus shook his head. "Deaging him with a potion would not have remedied everything. It took a far older and greater magic. The Desiderium Medallion."

At the puzzled looks, he went on to explain about the ancient medallion that he had gifted Severus with years before. The younger wizard had thought nothing of it at the time when Dumbledore had given him the token of his full forgiveness and acceptance when Severus returned from the service of the Dark Lord and joined the Light. In actuality however, the medallion had powers its wearer had never known. The small pendant could alter things to grant the deepest desires of the heart. But only if another had the same wish for the person. And the medallion's magic worked on love alone; it would not harm the wearer. As an added precaution, the magic could only be activated once. Once used the medallion was nothing more than an intricately made ornament.

"So this medallion's magic changed Harry's Potions professor to a child?" Fiona asked, still rather confused.

Albus nodded. "Yes. It was a way to change things totally for Severus."

"I can see wishing to live, Albus, but why a child?" the young woman questioned.

"Severus had a life that no one should have to go through, Fiona," the Headmaster answered. "Rather like Harry here."

Fiona looked at her young charge and then back at Dumbledore. "You mean he was an unwanted orphan?"

"It would have been easier if he had been an orphan," the older man said quietly. "Severus' father was cruel to the boy, his mother a bit cool and indifferent. The lad retreated to his studies and had no friends. He was shunned and harassed all through his time here at Hogwart's."

"And you did nothing?" Fiona questioned with a hint of accusation. "I thought as Headmaster you cared about the students." Fiona gave him a look and then gazed back over at the little boy. "Poor dear."

The words only served to confirm what Dumbledore had been hoping. This young woman had a mothering heart. He had seen it already with Harry. Now all he had to do was ease her into the idea and things would work out as planned.

"I deeply regret my choices, my dear, I assure you," Dumbledore responded, all the while feeling the familiar guilt and sadness that he had indeed done nothing. "This is why one of my deepest wishes has always been that Severus could have a different life, a better one. When he and I both voiced that wish. . .the medallion did the rest. Severus now has the chance for a happy life that he so richly deserves."

Harry had listened quietly to the entire exchange and now spoke up. "And where do we fit in? Why do you need our help?"

Dumbledore turned to the teen with a smile. "Severus needs a home," he stated simply.

Fiona blinked as the implications of the words hit her. "You mean. . .but. . .I already have Harry."

"Exactly," the silver head nodded. "Another boy shouldn't be a problem."

"Shouldn't be a problem?" Fiona laughed. For a man who was around children all the time, the old wizard could be thick at times. "A half grown teen is one thing, Albus. But a seven year old? I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"You are a natural with children, my dear. I've seen that in the short time I've known you," Dumbledore stated.

"But, we are complete strangers. Wouldn't it be better if you took Severus in? You obviously care about him," Fiona questioned.

The Headmaster sighed. "Even with Voldermort defeated, I still have much work to do. I would not have time to spend with Severus and give him the loving attention he needs. He needs a family to be with." Holding up his hand to forestall any protests from the young woman, Albus went on, "And before you start telling me any drivel that you and Harry are not a family, I have a different opinion. The sort of environment you could offer Severus would be ideal. Love, attention, a big brother," he ignored Harry as the boy choked in shock, "a house large enough for another child, plenty of room to run and play and just be a little boy. . ."

"Alright, alright," Fiona threw up her hands. "I'll talk to him at least."

"Thank you, my dear." The blue eyes twinkled. The wizard had no doubt that this young woman would soon have another boy staying with her.

Canceling the privacy bubble around them, Dumbledore lead them over to the table. "Severus, these are the people I told you about."

Black hair framed a young face, the silky waves curling gently on the ends as they brushed the skinny shoulders. Dark eyes looked up and studied both woman and teenager and Severus nodded. "Hello. Did you talk about me the whole time over there?"

The trio exchanged looks and after a moment Harry answered, "Professor Dumbledore had to tell us who you were and things like that."

"You could have just asked me my name, you know," the younger boy stated. Then turning his gaze to Fiona, he questioned bluntly, "So do you want me?"

The suddenness of this entire situation had taken Fiona by surprise. She had only gotten use to the idea of having Harry as a ward and now to be asked to take in another had sent her reeling. However, the fact that Albus had said this child had had a less than desirable life made Fiona feel sorry for Severus. It was the little boy's question though that tore at her heart. It might have been made with all the bravado the child could muster, but the eyes told another story. The dark orbs held a longing hope mingled with fear of rejection. Looking into those eyes, Fiona had but one answer. "Yes, Severus, I do want you."


End file.
